


My Heart for You

by Kaitiedid



Series: For King and Country [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fighting and magic oh my, Gen, Going on a road trip to defend the borders, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-08-29 17:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16748374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaitiedid/pseuds/Kaitiedid
Summary: After the revolution, their kingdom is finally independent. With Markus on the throne where he belongs, their people are prospering. Simon is happy to serve the man he loves, even if it costs him his life.





	1. Chapter 1

Simon knows he’s replaceable. There’s a reason they left him in the tower, and a reason no one protested whenever he volunteers for dangerous missions. Markus and North, they’re irreplaceable, the face and fire of the movement, their champions. He’s not bitter about it, it’s just a fact. He and Josh and the others, they’re replaceable, as much as he wishes it were otherwise. If there’s one thing he could do, it would be to make himself someone that Markus needs, someone he would want to keep, someone-

Someone he wouldn’t have left behind. 

So when the reports come in about bandits attacking supply wagons on the edge of the kingdom, Simon attends the meeting. Markus isn’t there, but North is standing at the head of the war table, proud and in full battle garb. Josh stands next to him, shifting anxiously. 

“You know, there’s plenty of other people who can take this. You just got back from the last one.”

Simon shrugs, keeping his expression neutral. “Someone has to help our people.”

“That someone doesn’t have to be you.”

“Yes,” he agrees. To what, he’s not sure. All he knows is that this is helping. Helping to keep his mind off everything, helping Markus, helping their kingdom, their people. 

North calls for the room’s attention and begins explaining the situation. “In the last month, four wagons have been robbed while crossing the border. No casualties yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I’m putting together a small band to track down and eliminate the thieves.”

Sighing, Josh says, “Or you could arrest them, North.”

A few of the newer recruits look nervous. It’s understandable; if anyone else had mouthed off to her, he’d be worried about them too. She narrows her eyes at him, but it’s playful. The new guard members don’t know the difference. 

Mildly, Simon says, “Or we can wait to see what the situation is.”

North grins at him. “Glad to have you on board again, Simon.”

Again, Josh sighs and says he’ll go too. 

“Almost like the old days,” North says cheerfully. She picks a couple of knights to accompany them. “I want you all packed and at the stables before midday tomorrow.” She sweeps out of the room after, cloak billowing behind her. She’s probably going to report to Markus. 

It sets off a pang in his chest, but he’s not quite sure how to define the feeling. He hasn’t seen  _ him  _ much since his coronation, just brief glimpses across the throne room and quick exchanges of words. Markus is always busy, always talking to diplomats and representatives. And North. If the rumors are true, then-

He doesn’t want to think about that. He has a mission to get ready for. 

On the way to the grand staircase, he passes the throne room. It’s loud inside, packed with nobles and civilians alike. He hesitates in the doorway, gaze lingering over the empty throne. They must not have started the meetings yet. 

“Simon?”

He does not jump, but it’s a close thing. Turning, he finds the king himself standing behind him. He motions for North to go ahead. Smirking, she steps past them and catches the attention of all the people inside. Markus grabs his arm, tugging him out of the doorway, away from prying eyes. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, smiling wide. His mismatched eyes crinkle up at  the corners, and Simon can’t look away. He nods in agreement. Markus is still touching his arm. He tilts his head towards the throne room. “We’re running a bit late because of North’s meeting. Are you joining us?”

“No….” He trails off, uncertain on if he should mention the fact that he had been there, that he was soon going to be out of the city. But Markus knows him better than most, and can read it in his eyes. His face falls, that wonderful smile disappearing. “You’re leaving again?”

“I- yes, we’re going to deal with the supply thefts along the border.” Why does he feel so guilty about this? It’s something he can do to help, and yet…. All he can think of is that he won’t see his king for weeks and how he had seemed so  _ excited  _ to see him. 

Markus looks away, and Simon almost swears he looks… disappointed. His hand is warm on Simon’s arm, even through his sleeves, and if he wanted to, he could tap into his feelings. But he won’t. If Markus wanted him to know something, he’ll tell him. Besides, he’d sworn off that kind of magick. It isn’t worth all of the pain it had brought into his life. 

Not after last time. 

Markus squeezes his arm, bringing Simon’s attention back to the present. “When you come back, stay a while this time. I miss your company.” 

Heat rises to his cheeks as Markus takes him off-guard once again, and there’s no way he can hide that, not with his fair complexion. He can’t look away from the smile on Markus’ face, can only scream internally because he loses all semblance of self-control when it comes to keeping his composure around this man, and those words can’t possibly hold all the weight he wants them to. He manages to keep his voice somewhat steady when he answers, “I will… your majesty.”

“Please. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s any of you calling me by my title. You’re my friend, Simon.” 

Even though he knows that’s what they are, it still hurts. The ache in his chest is familiar at this point, has been since before he’d even put words to what he felt. He still smiles and nods, keeping his pain hidden. 

There’s a sudden hush as the throne room falls silent. From inside, North announces the king’s arrival, her voice carrying out into the hall. 

“That’s my cue,” Markus says ruefully. Before Simon can react, he’s being pulled into a hug, and then Markus is sweeping regally into the room, greeted by the cheers of his people. From the doorway, Simon watches him settle onto the throne, listening intently to the case brought before him. Simon is proud of him, and how far he’s come. Their small, newly formed kingdom is in good hands. He had never once seen the nobles of Queen Warren’s kingdom be so attentive to the needs of the common people. They may be a smaller nation now, less powerful, but they’re out of her control. He doesn’t regret the revolution at all, even with the loss and sacrifices they’d had to make. Markus hasn’t given them any reason to. 

And he doubts he ever will.

  
  


In the morning, he packs the small knapsack he keeps ready at all times. There’s not much he owns, mostly clothes, so it doesn’t take long at all. He does lock the door behind him, mostly out of habit. It’s his room in name, but it feels more like a guest room. There’s nothing in there for him to protect. 

The wing he’s in, the east wing, was added on as an afterthought to the castle, after the rush of construction was out of the way. It was small, only a hallway with four rooms. Josh’s is across the hall, North’s right next to his own. The fourth was empty. They’d probably only added it for symmetry. 

He exits the wing onto the balcony and heads down to cross the back courtyard and gardens. It’s a very convoluted path from there to the outside of the castle. After entering the west wing, he has to pass through the kitchens and the dining room, walk several long hallways until he finds the entrance hall, then take the stairs down to the front courtyard. If they had only added a door to the rest of the east wing, it would have been so much easier. But the revolution was fast, and the king needed a castle, so speed was of the utmost importance, easy navigation be damned. 

The stables are to the right of the front gate. The guards wave him through cheerfully. He passes people already on their way to seek an audience with Markus, and he almost turns to follow them. It would be nice, to say goodbye, but he’s probably already busy. Running a kingdom is not something that can be put on hold for something so insignificant. 

When he rounds the corner, he’s surprised to see a dozen royal guards standing at attention in front of the stables. He recognizes a couple of them as regulars in the king’s personal protection unit. 

And then he sees Markus. He’s dressed casually, or as casually as the son of a nobleman can get. It looks good on him. Anything looks good on him, but that shade manages to bring out the colour in both eyes, and he loves that. It’s distracting, but even so, he notices one of the men nodding his way, and then both of those eyes are trained on him. Just like yesterday, he smiles delightedly, striding forward to pull him into yet another hug. He reciprocates this time, but all of this extended contact is not good for his heart. Markus pulls back, but stays close, and he’s reminded of how close they are in height. It’s more intimate than it should be, too easy to stare into his eyes. 

“I came to see you off.” He pauses, looking at the horses being saddled, the wagon being loaded with supplies. Simon hadn’t noticed them, but he can see the knights and Josh now. “I’m almost tempted to go with you. It would be just like old times,” he says, mirroring North’s words from the day before. 

As if summoned by her name, North appears, exiting the stables with her black mare in tow. Simon frowns. No one rides Timoclea except North, and he was under the impression that she was only organizing this excursion. “She’s coming with us?” he asks, surprised and more than a little worried. She’s one of the best warriors in the kingdom, Markus’ general, and his best protection. Without her, Markus is vulnerable. Maybe he should stay.

Markus laughs, clapping his hand to Simon’s shoulder. “Don’t worry so much, Simon. I have plenty of trustworthy guards, and I’m not completely helpless on my own.”

That’s true, he knows it, but that doesn’t stop the sudden anxiety that settles deep in his chest, weighing down his heart. 

“We won’t be long,” he says. 

“Good. I’ll hold you to that.” He smiles at him again, then glances to the stables. “I have to have a word with North before you leave. Be careful, okay, Simon?” 

He can only nod, swallowing dryly. Markus gives him a searching look, nods, and steps away. The entire time, Simon keeps his eyes trained on his back, as if memorizing the slope of his shoulders, the fall of his robes. As if he hadn’t already. 

 

When he’d first come here, before the revolution had even been thought of, he’d been alone. One of the first to escape, to hope for something more. He’d thought that the false sense of  freedom here was enough. The laws were more lax this far from the capital. 

After two years, more people had joined him in their quiet sanctuary. They kept their heads down, stayed away from the humans, kept to the forest whenever guards were in the area. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than being slaves. 

And then Markus arrived and shattered that. 

Simon smiles, watching the slow movement of the clouds above them, feels the wind mussing his hair and the slow steady gait of his horse moving under him. Before Markus, he hadn’t seen much point in appreciating the lands he hadn’t seen much of. Now though, it’s their land. It’s beautiful. The road here, the King’s Road, is wide, cutting a straight path through the fields. The wind ripples through the grass, sending waves of green across the fields. Tiny spots of colour- wildflowers- bob on them like tiny fairy boats. On either horizon, there are thick forests. He can see birds flitting around the branches. 

The sound of hoofbeats gets louder. He turns to smile at North as she brings her horse level with his. 

“You’re in a good mood,” she observes, fighting back a knowing grin. He doesn’t want to think about what that might be. 

“It’s a beautiful day,” he says simply.

“It is,” she agrees. They ride in silence a while longer, the only sounds their horses, and the wagon rolling along behind them. Simon lets himself relax. “I saw that Markus saw you off,” she says conversationally. Simon’s heart drops to somewhere around his stomach. “And unless my eyes deceive me, I saw someone’s gaze wandering.”

His heart continues its way out his body, dropping to the road to be trampled on by his horse. He’s sure the wagon finishes it off by running it over. This is… less than good. Is this a warning to keep his eyes to himself? It has to be. He looks at her nervously, but she just smiles at him pleasantly. 

From behind them, Josh calls, “I see the bridge!”

North’s smiles disappears, her face falling into her no-nonsense general persona. Simon breathes a sigh of relief, steeling himself for the mission ahead. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. This chapter fought me hard. The good news is that I wrote almost all of the final chapter while avoiding this one. Hope you enjoy. ;3

They pull off to the side of the road. The bridge is still a ways off, but North decides they should set up camp for the night, even though it isn’t even dusk yet. Simon doesn’t mind; they’ve been riding for over two days. He’s sore in muscles he hadn’t known had even existed. They find a small grove of trees a dozen paces from the road, big enough to hide the wagons and horses and to set up a camp. 

“They’re in the area,” North says. “Be careful.”

He and Josh set up the bedrolls and fire while she leads the other knights on a quick patrol. They don’t say much to each other while they work. 

There’s rustling in the underbrush, and North steps back into their camp. The others trail after her. 

“Alright, everyone. The perimeter is set, the wards are up. Let’s eat.”

They have the fire out well before the sun sets. It’s one of the best things about magick on a patrol like this, being able to see in the dark. They’ll have the advantage if their opponents are human.  And they probably are. He can’t see anyone from their kingdom doing this. There’s no need, everyone is well provided for under Markus’ rule.

“It’s getting dark,” North says. “Who’s on watch?”

Simon feels a chill crawl across his skin, raising goosebumps. On trips like these, like the trip that started it all, the tower is never far from his mind. It’s worse when he dreams. He thought he’d been over it. He doesn’t blame Markus for leaving him; his life wasn’t worth risking their future king’s. It still isn’t. And he had eventually made it back on his own just fine. 

Not in his dreams though. 

He tries to put off sleeping for as long as he can. Josh is on first watch, so he stays up to keep him company. It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful. He can hear the rustling of the leaves above them, frogs by the river ahead, the occasional sound of a large body moving through the forest. Through the branches, he can see the stars. His mind stays blissfully blank, only appreciating and observing the world around him. He won’t think of Markus, or North, or what he plans to do with his freedom now that he doesn’t have a particular goal in mind. Before, he never imagined he’d get this far. 

Josh leaves him when the moon reaches her peak. He intends to take the next watch, but North’s strong grip appears suddenly on his shoulder and steers him to his bedroll. 

“Sleep,” she commands, leaving no room for arguments. He lays down with a sigh. Part of him hopes for an easy night, but he has this nightmare every time they’re on the road for a mission. Last night he’d passed out from exhaustion. If he’d dreamt, he didn’t remember. But odds were that it was waiting for him to close his eyes. 

He tosses around for what feels like hours. He doesn’t remember making the conscious decision to close his eyes, and the next thing he knows, he’s dreaming. 

As usual, it starts exactly as his memory. They successfully break into the tower, make their way to the treasure room at the top. North grabs the silver crown, the one that now rests on Markus’ head. The orb is hidden, but Markus finds it. As soon as he places his hand on it, the room explodes with blinding light. The afterspots are what prevents them from responding immediately when the door slams open, and the next thing he feels is a sharp pain in his back, and he falls when he tries to run. Except it isn’t running. It feels like he’s in a pool of deep water, the air dragging on his limbs, his body, making it impossible to move. It’s frustrating, and he feels even more helpless. The dream skips forward, and suddenly Markus is helping him up the stairs. When they reach the top, Markus drops him. That’s wrong, that’s not what happened, but it feels so real. 

“Use this,” he says, tossing a dagger at him. The next thing he knows, it’s in his hand. He knows that he’s supposed to use it. It’s better that they don’t use him to find Jericho. They have magick-users on their side too, and all they have to do is break into his mind. He’s not strong enough to resist. He’s never been strong enough. 

He looks up, calling for Markus, hoping, but he’s already at the edge of the tower. He and the others are chanting, and then they’re gone. It’s just him and his dagger, and all he needs to do is-

He wakes up, gasping. 

Across the camp, the knight on watch looks at him, startled. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Just a bad dream.” He rolls over, pretending to go back to sleep. It doesn’t come to him for a long, long time. 

  
  


The lack of sleep isn’t doing him any good, he thinks, yawning again. Josh gives him a pitying look, tossing him an apple. 

“Eat,” he says, “it might wake you up.”

They saddle the horses after breakfast, leaving the carriage and armour hidden in the grove. They follow the curve of the road up to the bridge, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. The only thing Simon sees is trees and the road. The roar of the river to the left overpowers all other sounds, making it impossible to hear even the sound of hoofbeats. It’s not surprising that the travelers hadn’t heard the bandits sneaking up behind them.

At the front, North raises her fist. The party comes to a stop immediately. 

Simon casts his senses out, listening to the forest. Under the river’s cacophony, he should hear birds, or creatures moving through the underbrush. 

But there’s nothing. It is far too quiet. 

The horses are trained for battle, to be steady under pressure, but Simon can feel his mount shift nervously under him. They’re close. 

North urges her horse to turn, leveling them with her stern gaze. “Any threat to our kingdom will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy,” she says, looking over their small unit. 

“If there’s a peaceful option, we should at least try,” Josh argues. “They haven’t killed anyone, and they might just need help.”

The general inclines her head slightly, more of acknowledgement of his argument than agreement. It’s about as much as Simon expected. North can be very stubborn. 

They push forward, seeming to all the world like a band of travelers. They must pull off the ruse, because the next thing he knows, they’re surrounded. Men and women, human, on either side of the road where previously there had been only bushes. There shouldn’t be this many. All of the reports had said a handful of bandits, not a small army. They have bows drawn, swords at the ready. It had to have been magick. There’s no other way for them to have masked their presence. He doesn’t see the caster, but they have to be nearby. Their party halts, hands raised. North dismounts smoothly; the others follow suit.

“What is this?” she demands, head raised proudly. 

“Throw down your weapons.”

North slides her sword out of its sheath slowly. Once it’s out, she lowers it towards the earth. 

At the last second, she flicks her wrist, sending it flying with deadly accuracy into the bandit’s chest. 

The road explodes into motion. The bandits fire. North darts between them, cutting them down smoothly. Simon drops the two nearest him easily. 

He turns, and there’s a third he hadn’t noticed, aiming their crossbow at one of the younger knights. North moves to her side, and suddenly they’re both in the line of fire. 

He throws himself forward, slamming North and the knight out of the way. The bolt tears through the meat of his thigh, and he shouts. With a snarl, North blasts their attacker back with a burst of white-hot fire. 

Simon rolls out of the way as one of the swordsmen rush forward with a shout. His luck doesn’t hold- he rolls into the path of another. 

There’s a sharp crack as his heavy boot connects with Simon’s side, and all of the air rushes out of him. Breathing  _ hurts _ . But he forces himself upright anyway, clutching his injured side. 

This fight is no longer in their favor. One of the knights is limping, and the other has what looks like a broken arm. Josh’s face is bleeding, and even North looks overwhelmed, surrounded by three attackers.

_ We need to retreat! _ he says. 

_ Get on the horses _ , North says grimly. 

They throw themselves at their mounts, and barely make it back onto the road. Bolts and arrows fly after them, and only their magick prevents them from taking serious blows.

When they finally get back to the wagon, North directs the junior knights to head back. They argue, but Simon doesn’t have the energy to mediate. He drops to the ground, leaning against a tree trunk. It’s a good thing that healing magick comes so naturally to him, otherwise he’d be too exhausted to stand. He closes the gash along his thigh, the broken rib. He’ll have another scar on that leg, just under his old one. Another one to add to his extensive collection. 

The wooden rattling of the cart alerts him to the wagon’s departure, and suddenly, he’s left with just Josh and North. 

As soon as he stands, she turns on him, face twisted in fury. 

“That,” she hisses, jabbing a finger in his chest, “was stupid and reckless.”

His eyebrows shoot up. Was she blaming  _ him _ for this? “What?”

“I could have blocked that. You could have changed the bolt’s course. You didn’t have to throw yourself onto it!” She glares at him, jabbing him in the chest to emphasize her displeasure. “There are people who would be  _ devastated _ if you died, and I made a promise.”

Oh. When she puts it that way…. He had had other options. He just hadn’t thought to try them. She has every right to be angry with him for being reckless, but he hadn’t been thinking about wanting to die. He’d just seen an opportunity to protect the lives of his people, and he acted. 

“What pro-”

_ Sh! _

He quiets at her hiss, following her gaze. On the road, two of the bandits are making their way towards them. 

Josh mumbles out a quick incantation, hiding them from sight. 

_ Be quiet or the wards will break. _

The men pass only ten paces from the remains of their campfire. There, they find the wagon tracks and curse.

“We have to find them,” one of them says, turning back the way they came. “We can’t let them get back, especially that general bitch.” 

They take off running. As soon as they’re out of sight, North breaks the invisibility spell with her swearing, more angry than he’s seen her in years. She whirls on him. “We need to get back,  _ now _ . They’re after Markus.”

His heart drops to somewhere deep in the earth. This was a distraction, a ruse to pull them all away from the heart of their kingdom. And Markus has no one to protect him. 

With a shared sense of urgency, they race together on their horses, matched in speed and determination, crashing through the underbrush and onto the road uncaringly.

How long do they have? He doesn’t know, and panic drives them relentlessly forward, over wild fields and patches of forest. Their horses flag and tire, only staying on their feet because of the magick they’re pumping into them. His horse isn’t going to survive this. But they have to, because their king needs them. 


End file.
